


of a sympathy

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, War is hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: If Lando was being entirely honest, he’d do outside of a pinch, too, but Wedge didn’t seem to realize that. In fact, Wedge was just about oblivious to everything if it didn’t come from the inside of an X-wing cockpit. If Lando hadn’t heard enough disappointed scuttlebutt around the base to realize he wasn’t alone, he might’ve been offended on his own behalf, or disappointed. Instead, he could pretend it wasn’t him and that Wedge might well—here Lando squirmed a little in embarrassment, mentally anyway, it was all so very primary school—like him in return if Lando ever saw fit to say anything to him.





	of a sympathy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yunmin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/gifts).



Lando’s hands didn’t shake as he read the casualty report—Lando’s hands never shook, that was part of being a good gambler, he supposed, a good liar; he had no tells—but he thought they should have. They certainly deserved to. Names he didn’t know spooled out before him, and names he did, specters that would likely haunt him for the rest of his life. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to some of them. Others, he hadn’t even known he would need to say goodbye. And even though Leia was the one who handled the letters, he wished for a moment that it was his responsibility. He deserved it after all. It was a job that should have belonged to him. He’d become a leader in this Rebellion, too. It would have been his if Leia hadn’t been so damned stubborn.

And yet, he knew a second letter would be overkill, in poor taste. There was recognition of grief and condolences to be shared and then there was a greedy need for an eased conscience and Lando knew himself well enough to know which motivated him most. It wasn’t his best moment, that desire for absolution, and so he let it lie and refused to ask Leia if he could help. She would have said no, of course she would have, but at that point, he could have said he’d done everything he could and moved on.

A thud issued from across his desk, followed in short order by an orange blur dropping into the chair. Lando lifted his eyes in time to see Wedge, a pained, sympathetic smile on his face, kick up his feet onto the corner of said desk and do the worst impression of a relaxed individual that Lando had ever seen.

“It works better if you’re not so stiff,” he pointed out, his own muscles going rigid as he straightened his spine in illustration. He peered down at the datapad one last time and let it drop the scant inches to rest on the desktop. Wedge wouldn’t make the best distraction in the galaxy—his mind was never too far away from these reports either and they both knew it—but he’d do in a pinch.

If Lando was being entirely honest, he’d do outside of a pinch, too, but Wedge didn’t seem to realize that. In fact, Wedge was just about oblivious to everything if it didn’t come from the inside of an X-wing cockpit. If Lando hadn’t heard enough disappointed scuttlebutt around the base to realize he wasn’t alone, he might’ve been offended on his own behalf, or disappointed. Instead, he could pretend it wasn’t him and that Wedge might well—here Lando squirmed a little in embarrassment, mentally anyway, it was all so very primary school—like him in return if Lando ever saw fit to say anything to him.

He wasn’t a coward, Lando, but sometimes he did a very accurate impression of one.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wedge answered, still tense, but agreeable enough. His smile widened with more than sympathy. Lando didn’t dare call it affection, down that path lay boxes he didn’t want to open, not yet, but nearly all of him save the most sensible parts wanted to. “How are you holding up?”

 _Better than these folks,_ he thought, a bitter thread in the fabric of his thoughts, one he tugged and tugged at until it began to unravel the whole of him. “I’m okay,” he said instead. Eying Wedge closely, he added, “How about you?”

Wedge’s mouth twisted into an unpleasant corkscrew. “Better than these folks,” he said, fully unaware of Lando’s unvoiced opinion on the matter. Of course he wasn’t psychic, he didn’t have mystical powers—outside of a dogfight anyway, or so it seemed—but an unpleasant awareness trickled down his spine that maybe his sabacc mask wasn’t quite as inscrutable as he thought. When Wedge’s eyebrow lifted in challenge even before Lando could say anything, Lando knew he was screwed. Han and Chewie were just about the only ones who knew him well enough to pull this kind of shit with him and yet here Wedge was giving both of them a run for their credits. Wedge just shrugged, eyes widening briefly. “It’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Lando conceded, inelegant and a little gruff, “but you didn’t have to say it.”

“I tell my guys all the time, better to admit it and get on with it, hard as it is, distasteful as it might be.” And now there was no denying the affection Wedge felt. Anyone with ears designed to hear sounds on the wavelength human voices took would’ve been able to hear it in the warm way he talked about his people. It didn’t seem to matter what was going on, that tone never changed, never deviated from that core. Lando could commiserate. If anyone sat him down and thought about it, they’d say he probably sounded the same way about his own people, the citizens of Cloud City, dispersed across the Anoat sector as Governor Adelhard’s troops stepped in and took tight-fisted control of Bespin. “Gotta follow my own suggestions if I want to be taken seriously.”

As soon as they’d dealt with the threat Palpatine himself posed, Lando would go back—to Anoat and then Bespin. And, as much as he hated violence, he would personally see to it that Adelhard couldn’t govern anything any longer if he had to. He would do that gladly.

But now he was here, safely—or as safe as any Rebel could get—ensconced in _Home One._ The Rebel fleet floated all around him, a slow-moving threat to the Empire if ever there was one. He was grateful for that safety; it gave him the opportunity to do this. About the only consolation he had was the fact that he didn’t intend to waste the protection afforded to him by agreeing to team up. He hadn’t intended to do it at first, only joining to assist in the search for Han.

But as the days stretched to weeks and the weeks began to look like months, Lando realized how much was at stake truly and knew that he couldn’t turn his back on the greater whole, not now that he’d seen the big picture. The scale of it frightened him sometimes, especially late at night when there were no distractions at all, not even the poor one sitting across from him. “How well does that advice work?” Lando asked. “On you, I mean?”

Wedge snorted. His hair fell across his forehead as he shook his head and he opened his hands in a useless gesture. “You know the answer to that.”

Lando grinned. Of course he did. The answer was easy: it didn’t work. Nothing worked on Wedge. Just as nothing really worked on Lando, try as Wedge might. For all the time they’d known one another, Lando had started trying to do the same in return, reciprocation being the best thing a smuggler could do in his life to avoid finding himself haunted by debts. Of course, Luke had told him it was a pointless use of his energies, not that that stopped Lando. _Wedge is never going to listen, Lando,_ he said more than once in several different ways, then, _not until you do and we all know how likely that is_.

For a man half-distracted by the Force at all times these days, he knew his shit. And though Lando wanted to hate him for that, he couldn’t. No one could. That was Luke’s true gift: as much as he loved his friends compared to how distant he could sometimes be, especially as time passes, nobody so much as complained except Leia sometimes. Even Han—at least according to Leia, as they still hadn’t exactly found him—just rolled his eyes and suggested the kid get his head out of his rear long enough to see some daylight—and that was only on the rare occasion that Luke probably actually deserved to be reminded that the real world existed and that he was a part of it. When it came to missions, he was fine. It was the rest of the time that he could easily match or surpass any of them on maladaptive behaviors.

“And how much more seriously are you taken as a result?”

Wedge had going for him what most Corellians save for Han had going for them: a poker face. If the question stung or embarrassed him, he sure as hell didn’t show it. “Less than I’d like, but more than I can reasonably expect from some of these nerfherders. It could definitely be worse regardless.” Stretching, he let his fingers entwine behind his head as he leaned back a little to look up at the ceiling. By anyone else’s measure, Wedge could have been called casual. But Lando knew better and he was anything but that.

Amusement bubbled up inside of Lando at the comment, the affected cool. Try as Wedge might, he never fooled Lando when he talked down his relationship with his pilots. He loved the lot of ‘em and they loved him right back even if none of them knew how to show it in a way that didn’t involve pranks and jokes. It seemed mighty lonely from the outside, but Wedge never complained. He never even let on that anything was amiss.

It was times like this that Lando wanted to reach out and do something, say anything, to let Wedge know how much Lando cared about and appreciated what he did. There weren’t a lot of people like Wedge out there, not even in the Rebellion. And he deserved to know.

Most days, Lando ignored the impulse, preferring their relationship to remain on the even keel they’d found through months of flying missions together and spending their downtime shooting the breeze and playing the occasional round of sabacc, one or the other of them cleaning up house with a laugh on their lips and more than a few words crowed from a place of deep, deep confidence in their own ability to beat any and all comers.

Most days, Lando wasn’t faced with yet another casualty report, one that numbered in the dozens from action taking place light years away from here. If Lando were there, could he have made a difference? If he hadn’t asked Mon Mothma to allow him to follow _this_ last, best lead regarding Han—another dead end, as it turned out—and instead taken it when she’d asked, would those dozens of people still be roaming the halls of Admiral Ackbar’s ship, happy and healthy and whole?

“You’re doing that thing where you’re obviously thinking too hard,” Wedge said, pulling him forcibly from his thoughts. He stood and rounded the desk, slapped Lando lightly on the shoulder and shook him a little. “Stop doing it. I promise it’s not going to make it any easier. The higher ups might’ve made you a general, but I’ve got way more experience in this than you.” He bit his lip, his eyes scanning quick and eager about the room. “You need a better distraction.”

And then he muttered under his breath, something akin to _here goes nothing,_ and stepped fully into Lando’s space, his legs fitting between Lando’s as he turned Lando’s chair. Before Lando could say anything, he brushed a kiss against Lando’s mouth, slow enough that, though Lando jerked in surprise, he still knew exactly what was happening when he did so.

“What are you—?”

“Trust me,” Wedge said. “It works.”

Oh, Lando more than trusted that particular technique would work; he knew. It wasn’t like he’d never made that decision in his life either, but he was older now and, he liked to think, a little bit wiser. The problem was that he didn’t want to do this with Wedge knowing it would be nothing more than a distraction. That tack had worked with others in the past, he couldn’t lie about that, but this was the Rebellion. Lives were at stake. And Lando cared way too damned much to let himself take the easy route out. Pressing his hand against Wedge’s sternum; the canvas of Wedge’s flight suit was rough against his palm. He couldn’t imagine walking around wearing the thing and certainly not with as much ease as Wedge approached it. “I’ve done this before, Wedge,” he said. “It’s never as fun as we want it to be.”

That… wasn’t entirely true. Lando had had plenty of fun in his time, but never as a way to distance himself from the grisly truth of battle, no. It didn’t feel right. And so, he lied. Just a little bit. Just enough that Wedge was the one who flinched back, his eyes darkening with hurt instead of lust or interest or any of the things Lando would’ve preferred to cause it. Here, he lost all semblance of a poker face. Red-cheeked, he took a step back and Lando couldn’t hate himself more if he tried.

“That isn’t—” Lando lunged forward, nearly knocking his chair over to follow Wedge before he could get too far and draw the entirely fair conclusion that Lando didn’t want him.

“I get it—really. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“I love you,” Lando said instead of the thousands of more diplomatic things he could have said. Screwing his eyes shut, he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, biting back an unfortunate sigh all the while. _Well done_ , he thought, his own face now flaming with heat in turn. “I’m—in love with you.” When he got Han back from Jabba, he was going to kick the man’s ass across the galaxy and back. If not for him, none of this would’ve happened. “I have been for a while now.”

Wedge’s mouth dropped open, a better reception than Lando deserved for how thoroughly he’d botched—everything.

“That’s the only reason,” he continued. Might as well swallow his other foot, too, and the rest of himself if possible. “I don’t want to just—not like this.” _Stars, I hope he understands_. “Not with…” His hands waved to indicate the datapad, the blasted report, his only excuse in this whole thing. Any other day, he’d have been fine. Any other day, he wouldn’t have made this much of a fool of himself. “Not with you.”

Wedge’s mouth remained firmly dropped, his eyes widening in addition, as though that improved the situation.

“You could say something,” Lando added, piqued and not in a nice way. Nearly to the point of fidgeting, he watched Wedge’s face for every expression that crossed it. No matter how small, he caught it and cataloged it. Surprise, fear, warmth, astonishment, worry. They twitched and morphed his features. Confused and confusing, Lando wished he would get on with turning him down and leave Lando in peace.

“I don’t—” He bit his lip, his eyes falling to Lando’s mouth. Taking on a considering look, he breathed deeply. “I didn’t know.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I should’ve known.”

“You weren’t supposed to. I never wanted it to interfere with our relationship the way it was.” Lando finally allowed himself the chance to twitch a little, his fingers wrapping around one another as they twisted and twined behind his back, the one small concession he allowed himself.

Wedge nodded, ponderous. “So you just pretended like you didn’t feel anything for me?”

 _I’m feeling less for you by the minute,_ an uncharitable thought, but if Wedge was going to dance him on strings like this instead of turning him down and being merciful, Lando figured he deserved to feel a bit of annoyance. “This also isn’t my first time doing that.” Returning to his seat, Lando fiddled with his datapad. “I’m sorry I said anything. I wasn’t trying to… Honestly, I don’t know what I was doing. Reacting, I guess. It won’t interfere with our working relationship if you’re worried about that.”

“Of course I’m not worried about that! I’m just… you really…?” He shook his head again. “Me?”

This conversation was getting neither of them anywhere. “Can we pretend like this never happened? I’d really appreciate it.” _I don’t think I’ve ever been turned down in quite this way before._ If nothing else, he could appreciate the novelty of it.

“No.” And now, instead of putting more distance between them like he should have, Wedge stepped forward. “Sorry, but I’d rather we didn’t do that.” He reached out with calloused fingers to trace the pads of his fingertips across Lando’s cheek and temple.

At that moment, what Lando should have done was pull away, remind Wedge what a foolish thing it was to do. Fraternization wasn’t exactly against the rules—or if it was, so few people paid attention to them that it didn’t matter—but Lando was far more practical than that. Lando just didn’t want either of them to get hurt doing something foolish. And this, letting Wedge touch him so intimately, letting Wedge make his heart strain against his rib cage, hard and rattling, was so very foolish. Probably the most foolish thing he’d done since letting Boba Fett set foot in his city.

“You’re serious?” Wedge asked, intent.

Lando found he couldn’t lie about this anymore. He’d already tried. And clearly he’d already failed. What was the point in digging this hole even deeper? “I’m serious,” he confirmed, sighing as Wedge’s hand slid down to cup his jaw before they went to curl in the short hairs at the base of his neck. Tilting Lando’s head up, he brought their mouths together a second time.

This time, Lando let himself have this. He gave over to it, gave into it. Wedge was a force to be reckoned with, as powerful as the X-wings he flew every day and as determined as Lando had ever seen him—or felt him as the case was. Because Lando was fairly certain there was no escaping from this now. They’d made this bed and now Lando had to…

Well.

As far as metaphors went, this one might end up being quite a bit more literal than that.

Later, at least. For now, he dragged Wedge into his lap, caressed the strong, stable line of his neck from jaw to shoulder, pressed his hands against the expanse of Wedge’s back. He groaned with what Lando could only imagine was pleasure and swept his fingers up and back down the same path only for Wedge to shudder against him. This, this Lando liked. There was nothing but good in it that he could tell. Now that he was on-board, he was willing to commit. Kissing Wedge was just about the best damned thing he’d done in a long time. Even when a cramp twinged in his thigh, he didn’t want to let go.

Though of course there always came a moment where a person was forced to let go.

“Shit,” he said, with rather more feeling and less grace than he could usually summon. Warmth suffused him all over, like he’d been sitting under the skyroof of Cloud City for far longer than was recommended, soaking up sunlight for all that it was worth and turning it into a fidgeting, flowing energy. Lando could’ve run miles; he could’ve participated in a days’ long sabacc tournament. If any once person could be invincible, he thought it was himself.

A dangerous feeling, that. In moments like this, he felt he could do anything. Take on the Empire single-handedly if need be. That was a stupid thought to harbor, a lie. No one person could do that, not even Luke, definitely not Lando.

From the look that glinted in Wedge’s eye, the feeling was mutual. “I don’t think you were kidding either,” Lando said, a little breathless. Between words, he dragged in deep, cool lungfuls of air. “Huh.”

“Sometimes I know what I’m talking about.”

“Apparently.”

Wedge pushed his lips together and got to his feet, holding out his hand to Lando. “Do I—do we need to talk about this?” His hand brushed through his hair, mussing it well beyond its already wild appearance. Lando wanted to reach up and smooth it down—or do him one better and muss it further. “I care a hell of a lot about you, too, you know.” For a moment, his eyes wouldn’t meet Lando’s. And then, they did. And Lando didn’t have to wonder the extent to which Wedge _cared_ for him. It was all right there for him to see, obvious. So much more than Lando had ever expected.

Grinning, relieved, Lando grabbed that outstretched hand and got to his feet.

“Come on,” he said, keeping the laugh out of his voice as best he could. Quite probably, he failed. Definitely, he didn’t care in the slightest about the possibility.

Grinning back, Wedge followed along behind, his hand gripped tight in Lando’s.

Lando said, “I’ll show you how distractions work.”


End file.
